Duplicity and Discipline
by spankingfemfatale
Summary: Loki is reborn into the body of Sif, his brother's wife. He plays a trick on Thor while in his new form and finds trouble for himself that he hadn't expected. Written for me by LJ friend Harlot Ohara for my birthday! WARNING! Contains non-sexual spanking!


Loki is reborn into the body of Sif, his brother's wife. He plays a trick on Thor while in his new form and finds trouble for himself that he hadn't expected. Written for **spankingfemme** and with apologies to Jane Austen for the name.

Rating: PG

AN: Thees, Thous and Thines are without a doubt wrong. I haven't taken Shakespearean English. =(

In Asgard it was dark as pitch and yet still though the moon hung low and cast off a warm harvest light, the combination a blood red beam shooting through all the blanketed nothing of the sky. The light was rosy and inviting to most but to a few others it was bloody and taunting. One of the latter was the former god, turned goddess of Mischief, Loki. The light had kept him from any vague form of semi-restful slumber and so he was returned to his usual pastime; finding a manner in which to torment his foster brother.

It didn't take much these days, perhaps just a brush of his own hard nail tipped fingers against Sif's borrowed breast, smoothing down a crimson gown that she would never have worn. Thor would cringe just noticeably enough to be pleasant; his handsome face just barely allowing the change to show. He wouldn't want the others to know how it affected him because he was normally filled with bravery comparable to none.

It had always been handsome Thor, noble Thor, brave Thor, but now it was heartbroken and humble Thor.

Loki liked this new Thor best of all.

He was easy to torment, newly filled with humanity that begged to be tested and his teal eyes were easy to read ever changing emotions from. Humans were now an item of interest to him as they had not been in a past life. It was simple enough to cause them torment, better still that he was one of them with Donald Blake. The goddess arose from crumpled sheets with that thought, a hand brushing long dwarf forged ebony locks to tumble down his back.

He would wake the Thunder God to this accursed blood moon, perhaps lie about his own feelings and gain some of the newly liberal sympathy. The 'mutual' feelings of loss and abandonment to this new Asgard could be 'shared' between them and perhaps they would form a new 'trust'. Sliding a robe over slender white shoulders, Loki entered the stone hall of the castle, listening to the whistling of the wind with disgust. He switched his form to an elegant emerald snake then to avoid most of the gust and slid down the hall. When he had reached his brother's room he slid under the door this way; entering without a sound.

Blonde hair spilled forward onto the horse-hair mattress like liquid gold from the god and soft white sheets lay in such a way to barely cover the striking figure that lay under them. The sheets were pulled upwards in Thor's mighty hands to his well made face and the goddess couldn't help but muse that in Midgard the faces of corpses were often covered the same. The cool of the night would never have allowed Loki to continue slumber after the disappearance of a blanket but his brother slept soundly.

Cold and serpentine, Loki slithered up onto the bed beside him, coming to rest as such for a few beats of his heart. Thor was not roused. Within a moment he returned to his borrowed form and placed a hand against his brother's hard chest. The God startled, his gorgeous eyes regaining focus slowly and unsurely. The form beside him was familiar with those emerald eyes and the luscious shape of fertility that so held his desire. "Sif…?" He questioned groggily and the hand stroked down his waist.

"I could not sleep." The gentle voice replied and Thor wrapped an arm around his lover's slight waist, pulling the body close to him. Sif's form was warm as summer and smooth as glass just as he recalled. He placed a sweet kiss on full shapely lips, inhaling the perfect scent of her dark locks surrounding them. The lips smirked under his and even as Loki kissed back, Thor was slow to recall the situation as unreal as it was. It was so much more likely to be a dream than what he had awoken from that only when his brother spoke did he fully recognize his mistake.

"I can't imagine that our All Father would be pleased with your choice to continue, My Brother. He is a fan of many things but incest is not one." Loki crooned, his now feminine voice holding such mockery that Thor's blood wanted to boil within his veins. How could he have fallen for the bastard's tricks once more? The cursed frost giant had done it again, made him into a goat fucking fool.

"Sif is gone but not long forgotten. Though I should think it was more than her form which thou drew thy pleasure from." The trickster continued; never able to leave good enough alone. Thor had shown him sensitive caring behind all of his gruff and had kissed a man with such tender abandon that one might have taken it in a different manner...should it slip.

Thor growled low in his throat and he pushed Loki away from him, sitting up with a look of betrayal. Whom had it been who had slid into bed beside whom? The deluder smiled at him with perfect berry tinted lips and continued his barely disguised mockery, one beautiful hand fluffing the pillows casually. "I wouldn't condemn if thee wanted for a companion to lie beside, Thor. I know how lonely it can be…" Long nails made a sharp sound against the fabric then, sliding them sharply down the pillows. "I can even try for a fair comparison of her voice."

The last sentence pushed the Thunder God further than was advised even with his new found compassion and he grabbed his lady love's frail wrist. Loki startled only for a moment as he quickly realized; this new body could keep him from more harm than any cantation had been able to in his past existence. Thor would never want to do damage to Sif no matter if it was not she that felt the pain. He loved her far too well to be able to bruise or bloody her body even when it lacked her soul.

"Thee would not risk the motion!" Loki laughed surely; shaking his head with a new found confidence. "Thine own palm dare not strike Sif! It may be thy wretched brother that feels the strike but can thee look down unto her face filled with fear as thou do so?" It wasn't a full beat of either heart that passed before Thor replied, his voice seeming almost amused beyond his clear hurt at this illusion. His hand strengthened its hold on the thin wrist and pulled forward. "Aye, Loki. I have my ways."

Loki was thunderstruck when he found himself lying over Thor's hard thighs, the hand that held his wrist before now pinned it to the middle of his bare back. "I've had enough of playing thy games, Trickster." Thor lectured, using his free hand to move Loki's wrists together. The goddess didn't move, the situation not yet having taken hold of his cunning. "If it is a new life that thee wish to live then thou must begin to accept responsibility for these illusions and this is what thou shall have. I will have no more of thy misuse of this form!"

A hand rose and fell before the shape shifter could think to summon himself into another more slippery form. His legendary wile never ending however, he pleaded with the other god even from this position. "Thor! Do stop now! How might this look to the naked eye?"

Thor offered only a gentle laugh in return and he allowed his hand to fall again, landing a firm smack against the full curve of the assumed form. "It would appear thou hast received a sip of thine own foul wine. The notion that Sif's backside is sacrosanct is false."

The spanking continued then, harder than Loki would have imagined any slap to this form could have been. Surely, the God would not imply this held no torture for him? But no, he appeared to be without regret in applying this punishment.

Hissing, Loki tried his best to pull away but found that the new silken night-things offered little leverage and caused him only to slip and slide against his brother's thigh. At first he tried his best to struggle away but that only gained him a new vigor from Thor's palm. The slaps felt like fire with the strength they were applied and he cried out with rage, beautiful face flushed and angered.

Thor persisted despite the impassioned wails, rather more than pleased to hear the angry sounds begin to mix with whimpers. He may have been good of heart but he also had a love of 'justice' and this seemed a fair response to his brother's unending mockery.

The trickster knew now that while he was unable to truly strike his lovers form something as blithe and playful as to spark desire between them was deemed acceptable. It was enough it appeared to drive the goddess to tears but not enough to damage her form.

Through out Asgard none could have been as capable, in that moment as in any, as Loki was to pitch a fevered tantrum. Long shapely legs rose and fell hard against the mattress and he bucked and struggled against the restraint of his wrists. It was to no avail for his new form was physically less capable of such struggles as his past for one simple reason; it had less demand to learn.

The moment that Loki's struggles dissolved Thor's hand ceased its descent. The goddess struggled upwards then, stumbling off of the bed and wiping at the tears that trickled down his pale cheeks. "Get thee hence, charlatan." Thor demanded of his lover's crouched form. "If thou should return in like manner thou shall feel the sting of my belt."

Loki scuttled away down the hall, head held low with one palm rubbing at Sif's sore posterior. At any other time, he would have worried that another deity might see his posture and laugh but tonight with the cursed harvest moon, the Gods slept well. Thor, no doubt, had resumed his peaceful slumber with in moments, full of peerless pride at the reception of his notorious sibling.

He returned to his own bed chamber then and disrobed beside his mirror, dropping the gown in a pool around his feet. Carefully, he turned to face away from his reflecting glass and glanced around his shoulder. A long nailed finger gingerly touched the heated flesh of his hips and he growled. After all of his efforts to distract him from the night, he now found that his backside was just as hot and red as the bedeviled moon.

'Curse Thor, curse Odin, and curse Sif.' Loki wept as he returned to a slumberless night lying on his stomach; his punished backside raised to the cool night air. 'Curse them all!'


End file.
